


Beelzebub Has A Devil Put Aside For Me

by flowercrownmikey



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Getting off, Hotel, Just a lil thing I did one night, M/M, Muke Clemmings, One Shot, Pranks and Practical Jokes, The Sexuals, Tour, Tour Bus, Unrequited Love, Which may actually be requited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 15:17:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownmikey/pseuds/flowercrownmikey
Summary: It starts with an empty bottle of vodka, three very drunk Australian boys, and a game of truth or dare.OR // "I dare you to tell Luke that you're a little bit in love with him."





	Beelzebub Has A Devil Put Aside For Me

It starts with an empty bottle of vodka, three very drunk Australian boys, and a game of truth or dare. Ashton had turned 21 three weeks prior, and could now legally buy them alcohol and get them into bars, (not that they couldn't do that anyway, they're  _famous_  somehow) and they'd started to drink more than necessary. Luke would drink with them at first, but he was a lightweight and would usually end up throwing up, or calling someone in tears, so tonight he'd opted out in hopes of getting some extra sleep before the inevitable early rise to get to the recording studio the next day. 

Some of the dares were stupid, 

_"Calum, I dare you to make out with Ashton's shoulder."_

Some were absolutely ridiculous and uncalled for, 

_"Ashton, dude, I dare you to... to give us both a strip tease to a Beyonce song!"_

Some, some they should've thought about a bit more,

"I dare you to tell Luke you're a little bit in love with him." 

That's kind of where everything goes to shit. 

Michael twists the bottle cap of the vodka around in between his fingers, his lips curving only slightly as he stares at Ashton, wondering what the hell he'd just asked, really. 

"Dude," Calum cackles, "can you even imagine his reaction?! He'd be all-" Calum attempts a bad impression of Luke's  _oh fuck shit fuck what_  face (as Michael calls it) and laughs even louder. "That'd be so funny!" Michael titters a little, his lips curving more. It would be kind of funny, he thinks, seeing Luke's face drop, seeing him freak out a little, mused with sleep but suddenly on high alert as one of his 'brothers' tells him something he really doesn't want to hear. 

He thinks of Luke trying to fix it, asking him if he's sure, stuttering over his words, pulling at his own hair, eyes red with sleep but pupils dilated with panic and confusion. He can see Luke's reaction like a movie, playing out in front of him as he freaks out, and shit, does he want to see the 3D version now. 

"I'm gunna do it." He tells the boys. They holler at him, Michael lifting the empty bottle before standing up from the floor, teetering left before catching himself. "Come on, you guys can watch from the hallway or something." They all giggle, failing to be quiet as they sneak out of Ashton's hotel room and tip toe over to Luke's door at the other end of the corridor. The knock is louder than necessary and goes on for longer than it needs to, but eventually Michael hears the lock click out of place, and the door inches open. 

He hears a small tired sigh before Luke, mused with sleep like he imagined, his hair stuck to his face and red lines from his pillow along his left cheek. He smiles sleepily, rubbing at his eyes and crossing his arms over his naked chest, seemingly cold. 

"Y'okay?" He asks, voice thick with sleep. 

Michael smiles a charming smile and leans against the door frame, Luke's eyebrows coming together before he steps back and gestures for Michael to step in. He doesn't move. 

"I shouldn't," Michael suddenly acts as if he's nervous, looking down the hall to see that Ash and Cal are closer now, grinning at him and pressing their bodies against the wall a few meters away. "Uh, look- tonight just really got me thinking... and I just need to talk to you now before I back out you know?" Luke blinks at him. He almost feels nervous for real. "I... I know you don't want to hear this," Michael looks down, "and I don't want why I'm telling you," he smiles a crooked smile before dropping it and looking up at the blond who suddenly looks quite taken aback. Michael has to hold back another smile, ready to see Luke have a breakdown. "But um, for a while now," Luke wrings his hands in front of himself, squeezes them together; a nervous tick. "I guess I've sort of been realizing some stuff about myself, and... I don't know, I think I..." He goes quieter, looks down again. "...love you." 

The room is thick with silence. Which isn't exactly what Michael was expecting. He looks up, and Luke is just staring at him-  _through_ him maybe. 

"Like," Luke finally says after an awkward amount of time. "Like you love me or you  _love_  me?"

"I don't know, okay!" Michael acts. "Like I'm a little bit in love with you, maybe..." 

There's another long pause of silence, and Michael hears a thump from the wall he's leaning against to let him know that Ashton and Calum are still listening, probably finding this hilarious. His heart is beating out of his chest. He regrets this. This was a terrible idea. He doesn't even know if he can blame this on the alcohol, because since the words came out of his mouth he already feels hungover, like the alcohol left his system as soon as he said the three empty words. 

"Really?" Luke's voice blends in nicely with the atmosphere, quiet and reserved. He's staring at Michael like he can't even begin to figure him out and his voice goes up towards the end of the word, like he can't quite believe what he's just heard. Michael hopes it a regional dialect thing he's picked up, but the boy almost sounds hopeful. 

Michael feels like crying. He feels like he can't breath, and he's ready to blurt out that this whole thing was a stupid, stupid joke and that he's sorry, and he loves Luke but not that way, but Luke just smiles at him softly, speaking before he has courage to get the words out. 

"I need to sleep on this, okay?" He says softly again. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?" He walks towards the door, Michael freezing, speechless and feeling a weight settle on his chest. Luke walks right over to his chest, places a warm kiss on his cheek, and then softly pushes him so he back steps away from the door frame. The door closes, Luke separated from them again. 

"Michael." Ashton says quietly, worriedly. Michael is shaking, he can't even bring himself to turn around. 

"He knew it was a joke, right?" Calum says desperately. "Like, he's fucking with you, right?" Nobody speaks. "Right?" 

"Of course he did." Michael agrees, pushing all doubts to the back of his mind. No way would they have been in a band together this long only to find out that Luke has been hiding a whole 'nother sexuality for four years. Luke's a ladies man; there's just no way. 

*

When his alarm goes off at six the next morning, he's already lying awake, staring at the ugly yellow-tinted ceiling in the exact same position he was in hours previously. He hasn't moved all night, not even to try and close his eyes. Blinking became a chore at around three a.m. 

He sits up slowly and leans over the bed to press  _stop_ on his phone, the noise of Linkin Park cutting out so the room is painfully enveloped in silence again. He regrets every step of his life that lead him to this. He regrets getting any sort of confidence that he got when this band started taking off, regrets all the underage drinking and the groupies and the fucking ability to lie to someones face and think it's okay. He regrets acting, looking Luke in the eye and lying to his face thinking it'd be funny. 

He takes a cold shower and puts his dirty laundry in his suitcase, reusing the same black skinny jeans he always does with an oversized cotton shirt that smells of lavender detergent and reminds him of home. The second alarm goes off, a different song, and he sighs before picking up his phone, pressing  _stop,_  and putting his shoes on to leave the room. The hallway is empty at the ridiculously early hour, the boys either already downstairs or sleeping in to skip breakfast. He hopes they've all done that, beyond annoyed at Ashton and Calum for letting him do something so idiotic and heartless, and absolutely petrified to see Luke after that fucking dramatic monologue last night.

Calum is sat next to Luke at the four person table, and Ashton is sat opposite Calum. It almost feels like they've done it on purpose. Michael halts at the open door, watches to get a sense of the mood. Calum and Ashton are scrolling through their phones, Calum with a big greasy breakfast and Ashton with avacado on toast, like always. 

It's weird, looking at Luke after last night. Without the red lines on his face and the confusion in his eyes laced with exhaustion. It's like seeing a completely different person; meeting someone he's not known for the past eight years and instead has just popped into his life this morning. Except Luke is exactly the same as every other morning too, listening to music on one headphone (the one that's on the opposite side of Calum, because he's polite like that) and bobbing his head as picks at some fruit from his healthy cereal. 

His hair is still wet just like every other morning, his eyes are still blue, he still hasn't fucking shaved that stupid beard/stubble he's growing, and he's exactly the same. But Michael wants to run. 

He begins to feel like he's overreacting, over-analysing, so he presses his lips together and speed walks to the breakfast bar, grabbing his ordered toast with jam from the one worker there for them this morning and speed walking straight back to the table. 

"Morning," Calum says groggy. "How're you feeling? Hungover?" 

"You look like shit." Ashton adds, putting the back of his hand against Michael's forehead and frowning. 

Michael shrugs and pours himself some water, tries to get the image of Luke saying,  _"Really?"_ out of his head over and over again. He tries to replace it with this Luke instead, the one he see's every morning like clockwork; a glimpse into the real Luke Hemmings who doesn't like styling his hair and wants to wear different clothes but worries the media will make fun of him and their label with say no, the Luke who cries when Jack and Ben make plans and don't involve him because he's halfway across the world. 

"Mike? Have you see this fan pic from last night?" 

He looks up quickly from his daze, see's a white smile in front of him, same blue eyes as always. Luke holds out his phone over the table, snorts in laughter. It's a stupid picture, one of him and Calum just before they almost fell over each other. He cracks a smile and takes a bite of his toast. 

He's not even sure if it happened anymore. 

Everything is the same. He really did overthink this entire thing. Really. 

_"Really?"_

"I'm not that hungry, I'm gunna take a nap before the bus gets here." Michael says, standing abruptly.

"I'll come with you." Luke smiles, standing up too. "I haven't even packed yet." He frowns, tucking his chair in. 

Ashton and Calum wave them off easily, too invested in tweeting away their hangovers and trying to ignore the lights above them. Michael let's his heart beat out of his chest as Luke lead's them towards the elevator. 

They stand in silence as it ascends to their floor. 

"We need to talk," Luke says, quietly, smiling softly at him and bumping their shoulders together. "Help me pack?" 

"Gotta finish my own first," Michael lies. He  _lies_ , because lying has apparently become this easy thing to him since the band started;  _Of course I'll see you again baby; Yes, Mum, I'm eating right; I'm in love with you, Luke._

He chokes, and Luke pats his back, "You okay?"

He just nods. He's not surprised at the relief that washes over him when he finally locks himself in his room. 

*

"Michael, this is fucking hilari-" 

"I swear to God," Michael hisses. "It's not funny." 

"Like, what?" Ashton asks, mouth full of half eaten apple, bits threatening to fall out as he speaks, "He's just gonna turn around and go  _I'm in love with you too_ ," he mocks, feeling himself up,  _"Oh, Michael!"_

"Shut up! You didn't see his face, okay?" 

Calum cackles. 

It's been three days since he and Luke spoke properly. Luke stopped trying to talk after day two, but everyone - including crew members - can tell he's getting annoyed now. He glares at Michael too; a look that he isn't really used to seeing from the blond, not since year nine. He doesn't talk a lot in the studio, doesn't do much at all, really, just festers in his own anger, waiting for Michael to talk to him. 

"You look shit scared," Ashton laughs, "It's Luke, man. Chill out." 

"I don't want to hurt him," Michael frowns. 

"It's Luke," Ashton repeats. "Luke Hemmings?" 

"Are you saying he's out of my league?" Michael asks, forehead creasing. "Dude." 

Ashton laughs and bites his apple. Michael flips him off and slaps Calum's shoulder to stop his awful cackling. 

The man himself walks onto the bus then, the door creaking. If Michael avoiding his eyes doesn't give away what they were just talking about, the the abrupt silence in the room does. Luke drops his bag and walks over to the couch Ashton is on, dropping down, staring at Michael. 

"How was the studio?" Calum asks. 

Luke shrugs, "Fine." 

"Well, I gotta phone my Mom..." Michael murmurs before standing up. Calum pinches the back of his leg so hard he almost cries, but he speed walks around the sofa and into the back of the bus, going into the front room. 

He takes a deep breath before turning round to close the door, except Luke is standing there, holding his phone up. 

"You left this on the table," he says, stepping in before closing the door behind himself. Michael swallows the liquid in his mouth. "What's going on with us right now?" 

"Us?" Michael whispers. Luke seems not to have heard it. 

"You can't just confess that you - and then ignore me for three days - really, Michael? Really? You were drunk or whatever, fine, just fucking talk to me! That's all I want!" 

"I gotta phone my-" 

"No!" Luke yells, "You don't!" He throws his phone down onto the carpet, away from them, and crosses his arms. Michael looks at it, back at him, and nods. Alright. Apparently they're talking today. Luke steps closer to him when he says nothing, leans to meet his eye, waiting for something - anything, probably. Michael's got fuck all. He even opens his mouth and closes it again. 

"How do you feel?" Michael asks, "In general. Today. You good?" 

Luke frowns, but slowly answers, "I don't know how I feel." Michael thinks that 'I don't know how I feel' isn't about his mood today. He nods and continues looking at the floor, until he see's Luke's sparkly shoes in his line of sight, and looks up to his eyes. There are centimetres between them, and he cannot breathe. "I don't know how I feel at all. About anything." 

"Okay," Michael whispers. 

"I want to find out, though." 

Michael gulps, continues to have this staring contest with him. And then Luke is leaning in, grazing their hands together, and it dawns on Michael what exactly is happening only as it happens, and Luke's lips touch his own. 

His body seems to react as it usually does to a kiss; he presses in, his hands go to the dip of the waist. He pulls back quickly, Luke still staring at him, confused with wet lips and shiny eyes. He takes a deep breath and leans back in, kissing him properly with tongue and heat, and he realises quite quickly that maybe he's been so afraid of having this talk because there  _is_ something there. And there fucking is. 

He's already hardening up, he's gripping Luke's waist and taking control and Luke is pliant and whiny and let's him. 

He doesn't give himself chance to take a breath, just pushes him against the closest surface; the door, ironically, and grabs his ass. Luke lifts his legs and Michael uses his body weight to keep him up. 

"Couch," Luke whispers into his mouth, pulling at Michael's hair, "Couch, now."

Michael grabs his ass and turns them around, dropping him down onto the couch and being pulled on top by Luke's arms wrapped around his neck. He hurts his knee a little, but ignores it in favour of kissing some more; kissing more than his lips - instead, his neck, his chest as he undoes buttons, his hips. It escalates so quickly he wonders how he and Luke haven't been doing this their whole lives. 

Soon jeans are being pulled about, and there's more skin that clothes, and Luke's lips are so red that he almost looks a little ridiculous. And then there's nothing but skin on skin, and Michael wonders how the fuck he thought he  _didn't_ love Luke as he strokes him off and sucks a love bite under his jaw, Luke jerking him back and moaning into his hair, whispering explicit things, telling Michael what he likes like its all this big secret and not something they've all talked about since they were kids. 

It's hot and fast and Michael can't keep up with his own fucking reactions as they get each other off as quickly as possible, pressing (sticking) together, biting more than kissing, leaving more marks for the fans to make conspiracy theories about - except this time they'll be true, and Michael will never be able to look another fan in the eye when they ask him if Muke is real.

"Gonna come," Luke whimpers into his ear. 

Michael kisses from his cheek to his ear, bites his earlobe, "I got you." 

And Michael doesn't even care that he gets cum on the sofa that Ashton will definitely throw a  _fit_ about tomorrow morning  - hell, maybe he does too, when he finally lets go, all over Luke's stomach, mixing them together before collapsing properly onto him. 

"Fuck," Michael whispers, eyes closed. He hears Luke's little laugh in reply and looks up, both of them smiling at each other before laughing lightly. "Fuck me." 

"How 'bout you fuck me?" Luke whispers, pushing him up so they're both standing again before leading him to the door, presumably towards the nearest bed. Michael watches him walk and moans - can't understand how anyone isn't in love with Luke Hemmings.  

"I gotta thank Ashton and Calum, fuck..." 


End file.
